


Absolution

by Exorin



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Bunker Ending, Cunnilingus, F/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Sins, Vaginal Fingering, religious talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 23:29:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14460183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exorin/pseuds/Exorin
Summary: His fingertips trail up against your neck, along your jaw, his breath still warm against your skin, his lips brushing along your cheek when he adds, 'Tell me of your sins and I will release you.'Bunker Ending





	Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> I'm imagining the handcuffs being attached by a chain that limits the Deputy's movement but doesn't keep her pinned to the bed, just PS. There's a lot of sin talk and being cleansed and ah Father/ my child stuff that could be construed as weird. Also things like: cunnilingus, fingering, fucking, and other generally NSFW stuff. And like, squint and you'll miss it mention of maybe a little Deputy/John action.
> 
> Additionally, it's been a really fucking long time since I wrote Reader fic.

  
'How could you forgive me?' you say on the seventh day, half-starved and constantly on the verge of dehydration -- your wrists are chaffed and your shoulders ache from the stretch of being handcuffed to the bedpost and you're sure you would have died, days ago, if not for the clear, room-warmed water from the cup of his hands placed before your lips

  
He'd given you a chance, two days after the bunker sealed behind you, to repent and forgive and _be forgiven_ and you'd stabbed him in the shoulder-blade with a broken off piece of the bed that you'd been eyeing since you'd first woken up. You'd sunk the point just deep enough to draw blood before his forehead had connected with yours -- not softly and familiar like it had been with John, with Jacob -- and the world had spun to black again.

  
'All children deserve forgiveness from their Father.'

  
He was across the bunker when you'd asked, his voice starting from far away until he's suddenly just _there_ , just in front of you -- chair pulled up close enough that his knees touch the frayed edges of the barely-there mattress, 'All children deserve love.'

  
'Regardless of what I did?' you ask with your voice cracking and your body curling towards the heat that's emanating from him, every part of you that's not near to him feels suddenly cold, 'I killed... I killed everyone. Even the people I thought I'd saved.'

  
'But you _believed_.' he starts, his hand on your shoulder, fingertips pressing down against the aches, pushing them out with each touch -- his eyes are intent, near-glowing behind the yellow-tinted lenses he still wears, even now, (and, as always, you cannot look away from them, the background of the bunker blurring out behind him) 'You believed that what you did was right, was just.' he leans close, close enough that you can feel his breath against your cheek and it makes you tremble, 'That it was divine. How could I fault you for that? How could I not forgive?'

  
His fingertips trail up against your neck, along your jaw, his breath still warm against your skin, his lips brushing along your cheek when he adds, 'Tell me of your sins and I will release you.'

  
'Will you carve them into me?' you ask and you can feel your heart speed up against your rib-cage at the idea, can feel the sting of WRATH burning still-too-fresh along your collarbone and the rise of your breasts.

  
'I am not my brother.' he says, whisper-low and leaning back with his hands moving to frame your face, his eyes flickering down to the black-lines peaking out from beneath your shirt and then closing briefly at the memory of John, 'Come child,' he continues, pressing his forehead softly to yours and his heat sweeps over you like waves, 'I know you and all you have done. Let me absolve you of your burden.'

  
After a long, silent moment with only the breath between you, you start, '...Pride.' you manage to say with tears already at the corners of your eyes and it sounds like an echo of his words to you before The End -- he exhales against your mouth before his lips touch yours; warm and dry, a chaste, fleeting kiss that makes you feel lifted and heavy at the same time, 'I didn't think, I didn't listen to you, I let everyone, I let myself-' and again his lips touch yours, more firmly the second time, his fingers digging in along your jaw.

  
He slips off of the chair and onto the floor, onto his knees in front of you and you _sigh_ as the strain and stretch on your arms lessens, just a little, 'Shh,' he whispers, moving his mouth against yours, 'You are listening now.'

  
'John was right. He saw it inside me.' you continue, closing your eyes when his hand lowers to your shirt, when his fingers curl into the fabric and pull it down to expose the skin and harshly tattooed word beneath and he places another kiss to the hollow of your throat.

  
'Wrath.' he presses that word against your pulse point with his lips and your heart stops alongside your breath -- his hand moves from your face, a single fingertip tracing along the uneven lines that make up the W just before his mouth follows that path, 'You can be cleansed of it.'

  
You barely manage to say _yes_ , although your body is thrumming with the need to do so and it must be enough because his tongue against your skin is like wet-hot fire burning the sin from you and you don't know if you'll ever breathe again -- not with the way he's licking along the edges, tongue thick and damp and pressing down against the raised ridges you've only touched with your own hands once.

  
'Confess to the others.' he says against your skin, pulling your shirt further down to allow his tongue to move along the long line of the A where it dips between your breasts -- you remember the callouses on John's fingertips when he'd cut your bra from you to mark you there and now you can't stop the low moan that passes from your lips when he turns his face to open-mouth kiss the side of your breast, tonguing his way to close his lips over your nipple and _suck_.

  
'Ah, _ah_ , lust.' you start, your words breaking apart into a high, keening sound when his teeth clench down hard enough to make you arch forward -- you can feel the heat and wetness building between your legs and his hands on your skin, sliding down and over your waist to dip under the edges of your worn-out jeans, make your thighs shake, 'Lust... _Father_.'

  
And he _groans_ at that word, dragging the sound of it down, over your stomach, as he pulls the fabric of your jeans over your hips and off -- he's got his face between your legs when you finally talk yourself into looking down, his eyes bright behind the yellow tint, half-lidded, his lips wet and red, 'I will wash it away with my tongue and cleanse you of the filth that is this sin.' he says, pushing his face up against the damp line of your panties, his breath hot and moist against the fabric when he adds, 'If only you would call me Father again.'

  
You're entire body shudders with his nose pressed up against your cunt, with just the heat from his mouth touching you there and you slip your legs open wider when his hands slide up the insides of your thighs, his fingers reaching for the edges of your underwear to pull it away, ' _Father_ ,' you repeat, the cuffs around your wrist twisting uncomfortably when you try to get your hands into his hair, ' _please_.'

  
'Those restraints are your penance.' and when he looks up to you briefly, with his fingertips tugging your panties to the side to bare your slick, soaked cunt, you can see that the corner of his mouth is tilted up into the smallest of smiles -- the first drag of his tongue along the wet line of you makes your back curve and arch, your next exhale nothing but a low groan.

  
' _Father_.' you say again, feeling the low sound he makes pressed right up against you before he's tonguing at your clit, flicking and sucking with his face buried between your legs -- loud and wet and wanton noises rising up to mix with your own small, needy sounds.

  
When he leans back, his mouth is soaked, lips wet, his tongue dragging along them to chase the taste of you and he leans close enough that you can smell the heat of your cunt on his breath -- your legs are shaking when he pushes the first of his fingers inside of you, his eyes never leaving yours, 'Tell me of your greed.'

  
Your whole body shudders, your cunt clenching around his finger and you gasp, moaning when he bends that digit inside of you, 'More.' you groan, pushing your legs open wider on the bed and shifting your hips forward to feel him deeper.

  
He drags his hand back, slow, steady, before he's pushing two fingers forward, twisting them into you and then a third, pyramiding them together -- rolling his wrist and crooking them until you're almost _panting_ , gasping along with the soaked sounds of his fingers fucking into the wet heat of your cunt, 'More,' you say again, trying and failing to reach for him, the cuffs digging into your wrists and you're half begging when you add, 'only you can absolve me of these sins.'

  
And his smile is all teeth when he pulls his fingers free, his soaked hand shifting to his belt, his other moving back to touch your cheek, to hold your face and you nuzzle in against his palm, sighing when he says, 'Lay back my child.'

  
The bed shifts under your weight when you swing your legs up onto it, your hands above your head to keeps the handcuffs from cutting into you wrist when you lay back -- and you can feel how wet your inner thighs are from his mouth, his tongue, his fingers, before you spread them open and try not to whimper from the loss of his heat around you when his hand falls from your face.

  
You're shaking when he joins you, his body above yours and the thick weight of his cock pressing up against your slicked cunt, ' _Father_.' you moan, widening the spread of your legs as far as you can before he's reaching down to line himself up and _push_ forward, so hot and heavy and wide inside of you.

  
He _groans_ and your hips buck up at the sound, pulling him deeper into the heat of you -- he's touching his forehead to yours, grunting with each shallow thrust of his cock and it's not enough, not nearly enough, 'Ah, Father, _please_.' you gasp, hearing your own voice break when he shoves in deep enough that you can feel the weight and slap of his balls against your skin, his cock finally sunk in to the hilt.

  
And he's humming, low in his throat, you can barely hear it over the loud, wet sounds of your bodies colliding over and over, faster and harder with each thrust but you know the tune of it -- and before you can really identify it he's got his hands on your face again, his elbows and forearms on your chest with his full weight holding you down, 'I knew we would be here, like this.' he says, his hips rocking forward, 'I knew we would get here.'

  
You can feel it building along your spine, heat pooled low in your belly and wetness flooding your cunt with each of his sharp, hard thrusts, and you can't look away from his eyes, so blue without the yellow tint blocking the light -- he's pressed down against you so hard that you can feel bruises building beneath his weight but none of it matters when his hips jerk forward, stuttering, soaking your cunt with his seed, his breath nothing but a shaky exhale against your mouth.

  
And your body bucks up again, tensing with your back curving as high as you can manage, your voice cracking into a loud, helpless cry, 'Shh, shh.' he whispers, fingers on your cheeks and stroking along your jaw, 'I've got you. You're free now, my child.'

  
You're only half aware of him shifting forward and reaching above you to click the handcuffs open, 'This is just the beginning.' 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at [exorin](http://exorin.tumblr.com).


End file.
